The Story of Us
by StarryDreamer01
Summary: Written on the walls is the story of their lives. (Encounters between Fitz and Simmons leading up to their promotion onto Coulson's team)
1. Chapter 1

**A/N:** Special thanks to Emma for explaining the British educational system. Any errors are of my own doing.

The intention behind this was to be a series of drabbles, but then it came out a bit longer. So I suppose it'll be more of a super drabble series?

* * *

**FIRST IMPRESSIONS**

When Jemma Simmons is young, she dreams of becoming a paleoanthropologist like her father, or perhaps a chemical engineer like her mother. She's always had high marks in school, but it's not until her first set of secondary exams that her parents and school realize that there is something more. She manages to achieve perfect scores in all her subjects. Her exam results are the highest Glenden Academy has seen and when word spreads, her classmates begin to call her Hermoine. The 11 year old Jemma doesn't particularly care for the nickname, but she smiles just the same when she hears it. It is, after those same Year 7 exams, that the school begins to wonder what they should do about such a gifted little girl.

Jemma prefers not to draw attention to herself. It's why she doesn't correct the children in the playground when they ask her how "Harry" and "Ron" are or if she's going to take the OWLs. No, Jemma Simmons always does what is asked of her: her homework is meticulous, her uniform is perfectly pressed and her teachers constantly praise her to her parents, displaying her assignments on the bulletin boards outside the classroom. "Little Jemma is a darling," they'd say. "We wish all students could be like her."

So when Jemma receives highest honours on her first set of exams, people start to pay attention to the little girl with the dark mop of reddish-brown hair. Her teachers begin to give her more work- different work than the other students- pushing her further. Most would hate the challenge, but not Jemma Simmons. She relishes in it, flourishing in fact.

She moves through the courses faster than any have before. A few newspapers write stories about the little girl from Sheffield who is, at the age of 13, already being offered scholarships to Oxford and Cambridge upon her completion of her GCSEs. Jemma takes it all in stride, smiling for the cameras and answering the reporters' questions. Truth be told, she'd really rather be hiding in her room, eyes hovering over her microscope. But the reporters give her 50 quid for the interview (and no one calls her Hermoine), so it's not a totally terrible experience in the end.

Leo Fitz is, for the most part, the exact opposite. He barely manages to pass his exams and his mother wrings her hands in despair, begging her eldest to do better. His response is muted, which frustrates his mother. She reminds him of his potential and he shrugs. At 13 he already hates school and Mrs. Fitz prays that the potential she sees in him doesn't go to waste.

When Leo was little, she'd brought home a sewing machine from where she worked as a seamstress. It had stopped working and she thought her youngest, Helen, could play make believe with it. Only it wasn't Helen who'd gotten to the machine first, but her son, Leo. He took to the machine almost immediately and within minutes managed to get it working again. In hours, he'd improved it, making it self-propelling. When Mrs. Fitz brought the machine back to her work, the manager sent her home with six others to have fixed. Little Leo with his mess of blond curls, tinkered away at the machines and fixed them all by the end of the week.

He was 8 years old.

Soon people from across Bishopbriggs were bringing their mechanical things for Leo to fix and by the time he enters secondary school he's managed to earn enough money to pay three months worth of his mother's rent on their flat. When he offers it to her, she very nearly bursts into tears with pride. She refuses, telling him the money is better spent on improving his tool kit.

In spite of this obvious talent for all things mechanic, Leo is unchallenged by school. His teachers call his mother and complain about how he is disruptive, never doing his homework and constantly questioning their authority. Within two weeks of entering Second Year, he is accused (and guilty) of stealing the class pencil sharpener. Its motor, he later explains, perfectly fits inside the mini helicopter he'd built from scratch.

No one knows what to do with Leo Fitz and the headmaster warns that he could be held back a year. Mrs. Fitz cries when she's told that; she'd always hoped for more for him and doesn't want to see him wasting his life tinkering on old car parts in their shed.

Then one day while at the local grocer's, a man in a dark grey suit hands her a folded copy of the Glasgow Times. He tells her, with his clear American accent, that she must've dropped the copy and points to where he'd found it. Mrs. Fitz denies that it's hers, but the stranger is insistent.

"I'm sure I saw it fall out of your cart," he says. "Besides, there's a great story in there. You might be interested in it." His index finger jabs at the cover page, pointing to a smiling little girl with big eyes and dark hair. "They say she's the smartest kid in Britain." The man gives a slight smile, his teeth hidden behind tight lips. "I hear your son is smarter."

Mrs. Fitz doesn't know what to say in response. She clutches the paper between her hands, her mouth opening and closing from surprise. "I think you might be mistaken," she says at last.

The man shakes his head and turns his back to her. "I don't think I am, Mrs. Fitz," he calls out, as he exits onto the street.

Stunned, Mrs. Fitz reads the article that the stranger had pointed out. The article is about Jemma Simmons of Sheffield, a 13 year old science prodigy. It gives her an idea. She wonders if her Leo might be inspired to do better if he were to meet this girl. It's a wild thought and she knows it, but Mrs. Fitz is desperate. She saves up enough money to take herself and her son to London for the annual British Science Fair where Jemma Simmons is showcasing her project on the effects of adamantium on the human body.

When she tells her son about the science fair, he groans and refuses to go. It's not until she mentions that he'll get to see adamantium up close that he finally agrees. She's not even sure of what she's promising, but Leo is excited and gets perfect on his next test, so she thinks her plan might be working.

For the month leading up to the science fair, Leo Fitz talks non-stop about what he could build with the smallest concentration of adamantium. It's the strongest metal, he reminds his mother as he shows her his dream list. On it are planes without wings, skateboards propelled by lithium and a car that hovers over the ground. She resists the urge to laugh at his impossible list and instead ruffles her son's hair.

"Maybe one day, my boy," she says.

When they enter the school gym, she watches as Leo scours the aisles for the little girl from Sheffield. Somewhere between a boy testing a radial gun and a girl doing a demonstration on water pollution, she loses her son in the crowd.

When Leo Fitz first meets Jemma Simmons, it's not exactly as Leo had imagined. In his head the teen figures he'd saunter up to the girl and charm his way into a sample of her adamantium. What happens instead, is that it's not the pretty girl in a grey pinafore that he notices first, but the putrid smell of sanitizer mixed with…

His fingers grip his nose. "What's tha' howlin?" His Scottish accent curls distinctly and a crisp laugh startles him to attention. He turns, fingers still pressed to his nose.

"It's embalming fluid," the girl replies, motioning toward a series of jars. She straightens her shoulders, preparing to defend her creation. It's then that Leo realizes he's speaking to the very girl he'd set out to find.

"Wha- what's wrong with them?" He stutters, suddenly nervous, as he moves in for a closer look. It's all the cue that Jemma Simmons needs as she begins to rattle off her hypothesis and findings. She talks of hydro-aspirators and trocars and how metal alloys could change the face of the British military and Leo thinks that it's as though she's speaking Japanese. When she mentions S.H.I.E.L.D, it's Leo who straightens up, wide eyed.

"You know about S.H.I.E.L.D?"

Jemma scrunches her nose. "I'm going to go to the Academy one day." She says it as though it's a certainty. "They already offered to buy my research on how to mix vibranium with freon to get a more stable adamantium."

It's the mention of adamantium that reminds him of why he's there. "Can I see some?" He asks.

"What? Adamantium, you mean?" She bends down to a nearby backpack and pulls out a small capped beaker. Inside are shiny, grey pellets. If Leo didn't know any better, he'd have thought that it was the steel he occasionally found lying near the Stark Factory outside Glasgow.

She thrusts her hand forward. "Here. Have a closer look," she encourages. He tentatively takes the sample from her and fingers the cap gently. "My grandad worked with Dr. MacLain when he developed Captain America's shield," she says with pride.

Leo's mouth drops. "Your granda' knows Captain America?"

"Well, _knew_," she corrects. "But yes."

His face reddens and his voice softens with slight embarrassment. "I've been trying to recreate Captain America's shield. But I can't seem to get the disk right so that it comes back, ya know? Like a boomerang. Like what Captain America did during the war. I think it's too heavy or something."

"Have you measured the thrust in correlation to the lift and diameter of the disk?"

"Er-" Leo's face reddens further and his hand clasps the back of his neck. "I'm not sure how to do that." _Damn school_, he thinks to himself.

"It's just simple physics." She grabs her pencil and rips a lined sheet of paper from a spiral notebook. When she finishes, the page is awash in calculations. "There," she says, pointing with the pencil. "Follow those dimensions and you should be able to get the aerodynamic force you're looking for that would make it come back to you."

He stares at the results, stunned into silence.

"I've never been very good at building things," she says matter-of-factly. "I much prefer seeing what happens when I mix chemicals. But send me a video if you figure it out. I'd love to see your creation. I put my email and mailing address on the back of the page."

"Thank you," Leo says, appreciatively. "I will." He moves to hand her back the beaker of adamantium.

"Keep it," she says. "I can always make more. That's the fun bit."

He's not sure how to respond, but suspects that his face shows how grateful he is as Jemma blushes.

He's not sure why, he certainly doesn't have the scores to be accepted, but as he turns to walk away, he adds, "maybe I'll see you at the S.H.I.E.L.D. Academy one day?"

She smiles, nodding. "I hope so."

It's not until he's gone from her line of vision that Jemma realizes she'd never learned the boy's name.

_...To be continued..._

**(Please leave a review if you can, it feeds the writer in me!)**


	2. Chapter 2

**A/N:** I figured that Fitz would go to M.I.T (what with it being a top technical school) and Simmons to U of Cambridge (what with it being reportedly one of the best science/medical schools in the UK). What I didn't bank on was that they are both technically in a city called Cambridge (USA and UK). And so, this chapter is titled:

* * *

**COINCIDENCES**

Leo Fitz doesn't use the sample of adamantium to improve his shield like he'd told Jemma Simmons he would. Instead, when he gets back to Bishopbriggs he sets to work on crafting something else. He barters for a miniature sander and engraver and takes over a month to save up for the inky patina he plans on using.

When his project is finally complete, he seals it in an envelope that includes a disk of his video showcasing the experimental flying disk and a note that simply reads:

_Thanks for believing that I could do it.  
L.F._

He resists the urge to sign his full name. For some reason he fears what she'll find when she looks up the name Leo Fitz. He's searched hers and knows that she's the daughter of England's most illustrious scientists, that her father was knighted by the Queen and that her mother works for Stark Industries as an engineering consultant. She's the child genius he knew she was from that article in the Glasgow Times, but something about her internet biography leaves him feeling ashamed of himself.

An internet search of Leo Fitz, he notes, turns up his school's math scores where his name appears at the very bottom. It also reveals that he lives in the poorest part of Bishopbriggs and that his father had died in an explosion at Advanced Idea Mechanics. He doesn't want Jemma Simmons to feel sorry for him. He wants her to think of him as something better. So Leo Fitz becomes L.F.

Without his mother knowing, he forges her signature and secretly enrols into an after-school mechanical engineering program at the University of Glasgow. It's meant for secondary students and it's filled with gifted kids but Leo is quick to earn his place among them. He uses his earnings from repairs to pay for a physics tutor (whom he surpasses in knowledge in little over a month) and by Fifth Year he shocks his mother when the headmaster tells her that M.I.T. has offered him a full scholarship.

"But he's only just 16," she says, startled. "Besides, wasn't he almost failing his courses?" Mrs. Fitz is at a loss. She'd figured the school had stopped calling because they had nothing new to tell her about her son's behaviour and scores. She herself had stopped asking for his class reports and had just assumed the worst.

Instead, it seems, she should've been assuming the best.

"Once he finishes his GCSEs, Mrs. Fitz, they'll take him on at M.I.T. They say his understanding of quantum physics is unparalleled and that his sketches could have a serious impact on the military's understanding of aeronautics and astrophysics."

She's flabbergasted and hesitant, but ultimately agrees. By September, the 16 year old is on a plane to Boston, enrolled in the aerospace engineering program at the Massachusetts Institute of Technology.

...

Jemma Simmons doesn't forget about the boy from the science fair. A few months after her win, a package arrives through the post. Eagerly, she tears into it and finds a CD and an intricately crafted necklace. She fingers the small charm which she recognizes to be shaped like Captain America's shield. Rather than the star at the center, there is an etched and delicately painted S.H.I.E.L.D Academy logo. The silky grey hue of adamantium circles the logo and confirms her suspicions; she knows that the package can be from only one person.

The boy from the science fair.

She digs through the wrappings in search of his name. There is no return address and the stamp is postmarked from Glasgow. Frustrated, she tosses the packaging against her bedroom wall and notices a note slip to the floor. She's careful to pick it up and turns it over in her hands. Jemma sees his words and is stunned, her heart thumps against her chest. There is still no name, just initials.

_L.F._

And so, the boy from the science fair becomes L.F.

She watches his video on her computer and laughs when the mysterious, yet familiar L.F. comes in front of the camera and says, "I'm passin' this off to my lil' sister. So don't blame me if all ya see is my knees." She marvels as he sends his disk into flight and applauds when it returns to his hands; his experiment an apparent success.

"I didn't use the adamantium as I'd intended," he says to the camera. "But I think it works fine just the same." L.F. rubs his neck and Jemma smiles, she remembers him doing the same at the science fair. "I made ya something to thank you for your help on the flying disk, so I hope you like it. I thought it came out pretty well, doncha agree?" He snaps his fingers. "Oh! I almost forgot, I was thinking about your disgustin' creatures and I have an idea. So stay tuned."

The video cuts off and Jemma can't help but feel a bit dispirited at the shortness of the video. She thinks she might miss the boy from the video and chastises herself for having feelings for someone she barely knows. She reminds herself that it's just a bio-chemical reaction, like an anesthetic being released in the brain. To quell the rising emotion within her, she decides to write him a letter in return. She knows he'll never receive it but can't help but do so just the same.

In her first letter to L.F. she congratulates him on his creation. She_ is_ truly proud of what he's accomplished and thinks that he has a future in engineering. She tells him that the video wasn't all knees and that he should thank his sister for that, because she suspects they would've been nobbly with nerves. And finally, she puts to words how much she adores the necklace and charm. She's a little loose with her words and probably puts too much emotion into the letter, but it's not as though he'll ever see it and truly it is a sight to behold. Jemma promises to wear it every day; it'll remind her of her new friend from Scotland. She signs her name with a flourish and tucks it into an envelope and hides it away in her desk drawer.

A few months later another package arrives postmarked from Glasgow. The Drs. Simmons both raise their eyebrows when their daughter snatches it from the post pile and races to her room. She tears into it and finds another disk and several jars with what look like timers on their lids. Curious, she puts the disk into her computer and launches the video.

"Hey Jemma," L.F. waves to the camera. He's at his desk in what looks like his very messy bedroom. Her heart gives a little squeeze when he tugs at his tie and she wonders briefly if he'd dressed up for the video. Or, for her.

"So I made ya a thing, er- that is-" he clears his throat, nervously. "It's a de-methonizing compartment. Basically there's this filter, sort of like a coffee filter, but it locks in the smell of that disgustin' methanol. The timer on the top lets you know when it's time to clean out the nasty bits. Well, I haven't really tested it properly yet. No mangy animals laying 'round." He pauses and chuckles. "Well, none that I wanted to touch in any case. I figured you're better at that stuff. One day you can let me know how it goes; it should work. My teacher seemed to like it and think it was good." L.F.'s face reddens and he pauses, as though gathering his words. "I saw an article about you in the papers, it'd said you'd gotten perfect on your exams. Nicely done, Jemma. Really, I mean it. Well done." He offers the camera a thumbs up and the video cuts off.

Like with the first package, Jemma writes him a letter in return, filing it next to the first. Over the course of the next two years, she receives the odd package from L.F. and for each she writes a return letter. It becomes a diary of sorts; she puts to paper some of her worries, like her feelings of loneliness. Other times she talks about her successes, like acing her finals. When she accepts her scholarship and begins to pack for Cambridge, she worries whether he'll continue to write to her. Rather, send videos to her. She suspects that knowing a 15 year old who's at the University of Cambridge and studying biochem would be a bit daunting to the average person. Certainly the reporters who interview her about this accomplishment seem to confirm her suspicions and write as much in their respective publications.

She realizes that she has nothing to worry about when her parents forward a package postmarked from the United States. Jemma wonders if L.F.'s family has emigrated and tries to quell the rise of disappointment that surfaces in her chest. In spite of his new location, he continues his tradition. He congratulates her on her acceptance to Cambridge (and let's her in on a secret that he knew she'd go there all along). Some of his packages contain gadgets (there's one that he calls Sneezy and it helps her identify noxious fumes), others ask her questions on what chemicals would best work inside one machine or another (he usually guesses correctly on his own) and then others are simply video letters to her (he even once rants about the Harry Potter series, endearing him further to Jemma).

She watches him grow up before her eyes and notices that there's a distinct shift from the boy she'd met four years earlier. He's still the awkward, wide eyed boy she'd always known, but there's a maturity now to his personality. One that she doesn't notice among even the males in her university classes. She's increasingly impressed by how intricate and ingenious his creations have become. With the embalming jars the mechanics had been simplistic. Within a few short years, however, his creations have improved into complicated robotics that she believes might change the face of science and technology. She tells him as much in her letters, encouraging him to seek out important people at the local universities. She believes in the boy from the science fair. Knows that he could reach the stars or, at the very least, bring an astronaut closer to them.

There's a point in her third year at Cambridge that she notices the videos arrive with even less frequency but she's so busy finishing up her accelerated doctoral studies, that she doesn't have time to worry about what it could mean. When things get especially stressful around finals and she finds panic and uncertainty gripping at her chest, she pulls out her old videos of L.F. and is instantly calmed by them. Her flatmates find her asleep while video 18 is stuck playing on loop (it's L.F. reminding her to wear goggles in the lab because "no one likes a lass with missing eyeballs"). For the next week, they tease her about her Scottish boyfriend in America.

She doesn't try too hard to stop the teasing.

When she finally gets her acceptance letter to S.H.I.E.L.D Academy, she touches the familiar necklace that hangs at the base of her neck and secretly hopes that L.F.'s promise will come true. _It'd be nice to have a friend on campus_, she thinks, knowing full well that there's likely no other 18 year olds starting at the same time as her. She's the youngest ever admitted in the school's history and the odds are virtually next to none that L.F. would be there as well.

…

What Jemma Simmons doesn't realize is that across the Atlantic Ocean, Leo Fitz has been living an almost parallel life. At 18, he too is graduating with a doctoral degree and has been accepted to the Science and Technology Division at S.H.I.E.L.D Academy.

(Both will later recognize that mathematical impossibilities can still be possible.)

The school sends to Leo's apartment two agents tasked with moving his boxes of creations to the lock-up labs at the academy. He's so busy making sure that the machines are properly packaged and that the agents are carefully loading them onto the truck, that he barely gives a second thought as to whether his friend from the UK will be joining him on the Boston campus.

Later, as the last box is being carried out, it dawns on him to ask.

"I was wondering if you knew whether a Jemma Simmons was a student at S.H.I.E.L.D?" He tries not to be disappointed when the agent tells him that information on other students is classified.

**...To be continued...**

_**Please leave a review if you can! **_


	3. Chapter 3

**A/N:** I've been writing like a crazy person lately, the plot bunnies are just taking over my brain. I'd started this as a maybe 2 or 3 chapter venture, but I'm already piecing together chapter 6. I owe this writing spurt to all of you who have left reviews, so thank you! You all bring a smile to my face and great ideas to my brain! Thank you again, a million times over.

Special thanks and shout out to the Drs. D, who helped with the (fake) science in this.

...

**FEARS**

Jemma discovers that she's not the only 18 year old on campus by accident in her Academy orientation interview. Agent Weaver is explaining the campus' policy on underage drinking and says, "You and Mr. Fitz must be extremely careful. As the youngest, you could be expelled. We'd hate to lose two talented students like yourselves."

She leans forward in her seat. "I'm sorry, did you say that I'm not the youngest here?"

"Why yes, I'm surprised you didn't know. I'd thought you'd have met already." Agent Weaver taps a stack of paper into order, oblivious to the young student's sudden interest. "I really shouldn't be telling you this, but you are technically a Level 1. Leopold Fitz- rather, _Leo_ Fitz- is the other. Also 18 and from M.I.T. He has an I.Q a hair lower than your own. We're very lucky to have him here; there were rumours that A.I.M was trying to secure him for their facility. You can't imagine how dangerous it is to allow great scientists to get recruited by them."

Jemma nods, but remains silent. If Agent Weaver says anything further, she hears none of it. It's as though her brain goes into overdrive, all sound becomes a distant hum.

_Leo Fitz? L.F.? Could they be the same person?_

She's about to ask Agent Weaver if this Leo Fitz is originally from Scotland, but loses her chance when the agent launches into the school's policy on biohazard waste disposal.

Jemma's barely paying attention to any of it; she's decidedly making it her mission to find and meet this Leo Fitz.

…

It's Leo who sees Jemma first, a few days after the start of school. She's leaving the library, laughing with a few other students. The sight of her stops Leo in his tracks; the drone he's testing nose dives from the sky into a nearby bush. It'd been 5 years since he'd seen her in person and he thinks she's become more beautiful than any news clipping had ever represented her.

It's in that moment that he realizes what a fool he is. He'd started the video letters as a thank you and continued them to push himself to do better in school- a way to impress a pretty girl he'd met at a science fair. He suspects there's a possibility he's long developed feelings for Jemma Simmons and in that moment, as he watches her walk down the library stairs and into the quad, he understands with new clarity that those video letters had meant something more to him all along. They were a way for him to share his deepest fears aloud, a way for him to challenge and ultimately improve his engineering skills. He thinks that without sending those letters to Jemma and wanting on some level to impress her, he'd probably still be in Bishopbriggs tinkering away in a garage, repairing lawn mowers with no real promising future.

Having her practically in front of him sends him back into the skin of that troublesome 13 year old who was shamed by his grades and his family history. The successful aeronautical engineer who'd been published in twelve academic journals before graduating university seems to disappear. Leo Fitz thinks in that moment, with Jemma Simmons mere yards away, that he's been monstrously and incredibly stupid all those years in sending her video letters. He thinks that she must see him as a joke with a screwdriver. Or worse, a maniacal stalker.

It's that same shame that causes Leo to pull up the hood of his sweater and hide behind a tree.

…

Jemma realizes too quickly that the tech students have different classes than the science ones. She hears murmurings about the elusive Leo Fitz but has not, as of yet, managed to see him. The other girls on her dorm floor talk of the genius aeronautics engineer who sits in the back row of their classes and questions practically all of the professors' conclusions (apparently he thinks that the Holocom module could be interactive, that 3D modeling is a near reality and that it's not necessary for sci-tech agents to scour forensic remains). The descriptions of his thick Scottish accent and pleasant looks send Jemma's heart irrationally aflutter. Her friends' interactions with him, however, make Jemma think that perhaps her suspicions about L.F. were wrong and that L.F. and Leo Fitz are two different people altogether.

Olivia, a first year technologies student who is in Leo's Space Geodesy class, laughs when mentioning him. "Really, Jem, you should see this kid. He's all brooding and quiet except when he wants to stir something up with the profs. The guys say that he's constantly tinkering on something, won't let anyone into his room. Who does that? It's weird as weird can get."

Kae from Level 2 Logistics, confirms Olivia's story. "I once saw him testing out some strange flying machine. And when I asked him what he was doing, he snapped at me. Told me it was none of my business and not to think about stealing his ideas. As if I even knew what he was doing! The guy's a complete jerk."

Jemma is flabbergasted by their descriptions and thinks that it's impossible the friendly, open and lovely L.F. of her videos is the same person.

The next morning over breakfast, she hears similar descriptions from Charlie, Katherine and Robert. When Olivia suggests that she just look up his photo in the school directory and be certain once and for all, Jemma gives a half-hearted reply in the affirmative, but makes no attempt to fulfil her promise. She's afraid of what she'll find, afraid that she'll discover that the tiresome person of her friends' description is in fact _her_ L.F.

…

Leo knows what the other students think of him and he doesn't particularly care either. There's only one person's opinion he truly values. When a letter arrives in early November from Advanced Idea Mechanics, inviting him for the third time to join their program and promising him riches beyond his wildest imagination, he considers the offer. It's a chance to start afresh, away from the burden of ducking behind trees, shelves and walls to avoid what he's certain he'll eventually have to face.

It's a brief moment of consideration. In reality, he knows he can never accept it. If asked, he's likely to explain his refusal as being because of his father's death at their hands. But in fact, there's a part of Leo that is drawn to S.H.I.E.L.D and a particular BioChem scientist that he's been avoiding.

Leo Fitz is the first to admit that he does prefer the company of his machines. When he was at M.I.T, he was too young to hang around his classmates, and was quickly (and specifically) ostracized by them when his near perfect scores eliminated the bell curve on one too many of an occasion. Without a friend to ease the loneliness, he turned to bettering his machines, seeking his professors for advice and confirmation of his skills. They'd always asked why he created so many that needed biomolecules to function effectively. He'd usually just shrug and remain silent, allowing the professors to incorrectly assume a side passion for chemical biology. In reality, the projects were ways to ease, protect and improve the scientific world of Jemma Simmons.

One day, while working in the dark corner of the Tech lab, he hears Professors Vaughan and Yeats talking. When his name is mentioned, he's quick to bring a stethoscopic freq-meter to his ears and enhances the volume. What he learns disappoints him. Preparations are being made to move Leo to the Sandbox. His interest in bio-matter has convinced the Level 8's that that's the best place for him. There's too much danger, Yeats notes, in having a singularly genius, yet isolated student who's being courted by A.I.M. Vaughan agrees: the Sandbox provides greater protection and after all, Agent Blake is in need of a new assistant.

A few weeks after the Christmas break, he's called to Agent Weaver's office. He expects to hear that they've made the arrangements to move him. He's already bracing himself for the reveal that they'll be confiscating his work as it's too dangerous for his new classified location. He's gone over the potential conversation in his head. He desperately wants to decline the request, but as a Level 1, he has no authority over Weaver's Level 6 decision-making abilities.

When he's led into her office, it's not Agent Weaver he finds sitting behind the desk, but an unfamiliar man wearing a charcoal grey suit. The man motions for Leo to sit.

"Important people are very interested in your work, Mr. Fitz," he says.

Leo nods, hands clasping in his lap. "I didn't mean to keep the offer from A.I.M a secret, sir. I just- I just-" he stammers. "I wasn't going to accept," Leo admits at last.

The man raises one eyebrow and folds his hands before him, leaning toward the young technician. "I wasn't talking about A.I.M., Mr. Fitz."

"Oh?"

"We've been watching you for a long time." Leo furrows his brows in confusion but remains silent. "I understand you've created something you call a spectrographic analyzer?"

"Yeah. I'm mean, yes. But it barely works properly, it needs to be chemically calibrated. I haven't been able to perfect the measurement of the variance in the spectral emissions. Once the nano-" The man puts his hands into the form of a T, stopping Leo mid-sentence.

"Time-out, Mr. Fitz," he says, his voice raising. "I don't need details. I need to know what you need to fix it."

Leo shakes his head, nervously. "I dunno. Probably a bio-chemical engineer of some sort. But I'm fairly certain that there's no bio-chemical engineer that would be able to fix it here at S.H.I.E.L.D."

"Why?" The question is pointed, demanding of attention.

Leo's words come out quickly. His heart races anxiously. "It requires someone who's understanding of alpha waves and nitrogen containing amino groups… well, their knowledge would have to be unparalleled. I've asked Professor Kierney about it and she said that what I was proposing was at least 15 years too early to be developed. That there's no one in the world with that kind of knowledge."

The man nods as if understanding his dilemma, but says nothing further on the issue. "We'd like to move you."

Leo's eyes fall to his lap. "I know. To the Sandbox."

"The Sandbox?" The man's eyebrows raise in surprise. "No," he says with a chuckle, shaking his head. "SciOps. We're interested in promoting you, Mr. Fitz. Level 5."

"I'm sorry?"

"We'd like to begin your transition immediately. We've cleared out a lab for you on the other side of campus; there you'll have all the equipment you'll need to perfect the spectrographic analyzer. As well, we have someone that will help you bring it- and quite frankly, many of your other creations- to life."

"I usually work alone, sir," Leo says. He's not sure he can manage with a partner. He remembers all too vividly the disastrous encounters at M.I.T.

"At SciOps all Technology Engineers must be paired with a Science expert. It's part of the package. Besides, you want to figure out the spectrograph don't you?"

Leo nods.

"Good. Because we want you to as well." The man purses his lips. "Will you take the assignment, Mr. Fitz? We'd hate to lose you."

Leo considers his options, the offer sounds too good to be true; he knows he'd be a fool to turn it down. "I'll do it," he says at last, holding out his hand to shake on the deal. The man nods and accepts.

"I'm sorry sir, but who is my partner anyway?"

The man smiles. "You might've met her. Her name is Jemma Simmons."

...

**_To be continued..._**

**_Please leave a review if you can! _**


	4. Chapter 4

**MISADVENTURES**

Jemma runs her finger along the pristine stainless steel table. The lack of scratches is impressive; she figures they must've bought it special for this lab.

All around her are brand new instruments. She marvels at the quality which is far greater than what the students are allotted in the academy classes. She notices that on one wall there is a screen with clearly 3D capabilities. Jemma suspects that this is where the electromagnetic results will be posted. It's truly incredible, she had no idea such technology even existed at S.H.I.E.L.D. Her hands shake with excitement at the sheer potential of it all (and possibly because she's about to meet her new partner, Leo Fitz).

She's about to open a metallic cabinet in the corner when she hears a man clear his throat. "I suspect that cabinet is packed to the brim with my old tools. The mess of it all might fall on ya if you were to open it."

It's her heart that recognizes the familiar voice first as it gives a quick lurch at the melodic sound of his Scottish accent. Jemma turns so quickly toward the source of the voice that she inadvertently knocks over a tray of differently sized scalpels which scatter to the floor.

"Oh dear!" She cries out, embarrassed, as she drops to her knees to clean it up. "And they were all new too. Not a very good first impression, I think." She hears him laugh nervously and she can barely bring herself to look up. She's afraid of the potential for disappointment, afraid that it won't be him…

"I'm sure they'd get mucked up eventually, Jemma. All those disgustin' creatures you're sure to cut up."

It's that familiar turn of phrase from a video she'd watched more times than she'd dare admit that has her finally looking up. The sharp light of the lab stabs at her eyes and she's momentarily blinded. She blinks and her vision clears as she rises to her feet.

"It _is_ you!" Her voice sounds relieved and excited at the same time.

…

Somewhere deep inside, Leo musters the courage to speak. When he first walked into the room and saw her grinning in amazement at everything around her, unaware that he was even there; he wanted to turn back around. He wanted to tell the man in the grey suit that SciOps wasn't for him, that he'd go to the Sandbox and spend his life hidden away as some ranking agent's lab assistant.

When he sees her gently touching the doors to his tool cabinet, something propels him forward. Raw stupidity, perhaps. But he speaks and he thinks he startles her as she sends a tray to the floor. His heart beats erratically, nervous for her reaction. He thinks she might scream in terror once she gets a good look at who her new lab partner is.

Instead, when she's standing upright, she throws her arms around his neck. Her face buries into his shoulder. "I'd hoped- wanted it so badly to be you," she whispers.

Leo's arms hang at his side, stunned. He doesn't know what to say. It's a reaction he wasn't expecting. Slowly, he moves to wrap his own arms around her, his hands crossing at the small of her back.

It's Jemma who speaks first when they step apart from each other, her words a jumble of emotion. "Did you know I was here? Why didn't you say that you were going here too? Or find me? I can't believe you're here. I mean-" She stops, sucking in a deep breath, her hands press at her cheeks. "Leo Fitz." There's a hint of laughter to her voice. "I've known you for so long as L.F. that it's difficult to reconcile the two names."

"Call me Fitz," he says. "They called me that at M.I.T." It's a lie, but she doesn't know that. The truth is, they'd called him Little Leo, not particularly the most flattering of names and he's certainly not about to share that with anyone anytime soon. The logical side of his brain figures that if she calls him Fitz there's an element of separation; less familiarity, less chance of… getting hurt? He cringes at the thought, and she notices almost immediately.

"Is everything okay?" She reaches for his arm, concern riddled across her face.

He nods his head, pulling his arm away. "Yah, everything's fine." Leo moves toward his tool cabinet. "We should get started on the calibration." His words come out a little colder than he'd intended and he notices her face drop slightly. He makes an immediate decision to keep her at a figurative arm's length.

"Yes. The calibration. Of course." She nods and grabs a lab coat from the coat tree. "Busy, busy, things to do," she mutters under her breath.

…

A month passes and the two scientists have barely said more than a few words to each other. Jemma becomes increasingly frustrated by Leo's silent treatment. Her overtures to drum up conversation go unnoticed and when he does speak to her, he calls her Simmons like she's one of the agents they work for, rather than a girl he's been sending videos to for five years.

When she suggests that he re-calibrate the mechanized influxer on the spectrometer, he practically barks at her, saying that there's nothing wrong with the influxer, it has to be her science. She decides to leave work early that day, figuring that there was no sense in arguing over her inability finalize the data. She thinks that with a slight variance to the calibration, the spectrograph might at least read the radioactive emissions correctly. She tries again the next day to convince Leo to have a look at the influxer and has even less success. He's adamant. The issue is not his tech, it is her science.

The stress of the situation makes Jemma think that she's made a grave mistake accepting the promotion. The Leo Fitz of her memories is not the Leo Fitz that stands across from her.

Jemma seeks out advice from the girls on her dorm floor. It's unanimously decided that the lab is a terrible place to renew their friendship and it's likely the stressors of the lab which cause the miscommunications. Some even suspect Jemma's long time crush on the cold Leo Fitz (although, Jemma denies it, red faced). Against her better judgment, and on their suggestion, she decides to work up the nerve to ask Leo out to dinner. She thinks she plays it cool; she wears her lucky pink blouse, centers her S.H.I.E.L.D necklace at the base of her neck and begs Olivia to curl her hair. But when she finally nervously asks, Leo barely looks up from his tablets, fingers deftly moving from one screen to another.

"I'm not sure that's a good idea," he says, his eyes never meeting her own. "Work and pleasure should never really mix."

(What Jemma doesn't realize is that Leo can't meet her eyes because he knows she'll see through his lie. It's possible his crush on her, is bigger than her own on him.)

…

It's Jemma's dorm neighbour Olivia that startles Leo from his sleep that night. He's groggy and he can hear it in his own voice as his Scottish brogue is thicker than ever.

"I can't understand you when you talk like that, Fitz!" Olivia shouts into the phone and she's so ridiculously loud that he has to move the phone from his ear.

"What do you want, Olivia?" He repeats with greater clarity. "It's bloody one in the morning." He can hear the beat of techno music in the background and he wonders how so many of the academy students can stand Club Night at the Boiler Room.

"She's in trouble, Fitz." He knows in an instant who _she_ is and immediately he's sitting up in bed, pulling on a pair of sweats. "She's a little drunk… okay, _a lot_ drunk. We can't get her back to the dorms without-"

"The cameras catching her," he finishes. As a former member of the technology division, he knows full well that Jemma would be caught in no time by any number of cameras on campus. Both of them, as underage students, were explicitly warned that they'd be expelled if they were caught drinking. Now, with their higher level clearance, it was likely she could be fired for the transgression. He stuffs his tablet into his satchel and grabs his jacket before pulling the door behind him. "I'm on my way."

…

When Leo arrives at the Boiler Room entrance he finds Olivia holding a very drunk Jemma up. "What happened?" He asks as if the answer wasn't plainly before him.

Olivia gives him a look. "You're kidding right?" Jemma giggles beside her and pushes her matted mess of hair off of her face. Her once crisp pink blouse is riddled with creases.

"Right," he says. "Never mind then."

"You _can_ do this, can't you?"

He nods. "Just give me a few seconds." He pulls out his tablet and lays it on the floor. From the ground, he types in a command and a holographic keyboard and screen appear before them. Jemma coos with amazement as Leo stands and begins to type and swipe on the translucent keyboard and screen, his experience with the technology obvious.

Flashes of amber, red and green light up the dark hallway. He swipes again and types with greater speed. A red vertical light flares along the side of the hologram and turns green.

"Done," Leo says, swiping his index and middle fingers downward, sending the hologram back into the tablet. "I've reset the surveillance videos from here to the dorms. They're playing on loop right now. So you should have at least 10 minutes to get her back to her room before anyone notices." He picks up the tablet and puts it into his satchel.

"What? Me?" Olivia lifts Jemma's arm off of her shoulder and directs her friend toward Leo. "It's because of you that she's in this mess in the first place. She's your problem now." With Jemma leaning against Leo's shoulder, Olivia turns and pulls the door to the Boiler Room open. She gives a back-handed wave and is swallowed up by the darkness and music before Leo has a chance to question her further.

"Where's she going?" Jemma asks with childlike abandon, her fingers clinging to Leo's sweater.

"C'mon," he says, his annoyance with Olivia creeping into his voice. "We've got to get you back home."

...

The walk to Carrey Hall takes longer than Leo anticipated. While Jemma is able to walk on her own, she takes her time, seemingly enjoying the crisp spring night.

"You know, Fitzzzzz..." She slurs his name and points at him, her finger poking into his arm. "Why do you hate me so much?" Her face falls into an exaggerated frown. "I thought we were friends."

"We _are_ friends, Simmons," he replies, motioning her toward the main doors of Carrey Hall.

"Friends don't ignore friends. Also, they're nice to their friends." She stops as they cross the threshold into the building. "You're _impossible_!"

Leo can't help but chuckle at her definition of him. It's the same thing his own mother had said to him years ago when he was stealing motors out of pencil sharpeners. "I know."

Jemma starts to walk again, leading him down the hallway toward her room. "I wrote you letters. There were so many, my parents said I had a cru-"

"Wait-" Leo interrupts, tugging at her elbow and she turns. "What letters?"

She sighs dramatically, shrugs her shoulders and continues to walk. "I wanted to be your friend. You were so smart. You were my age and-" She pauses, stopping at what Leo assumes is her own dorm room. "You were just _so smart_, and you made me feel wanted. You made me all those things; they were so cool. I thought we could be friends. I thought we _were_ friends." She pauses and looks at him. "I rather liked you."

Leo opens his mouth to reply, but no words come out.

Jemma digs her hand into her pocket and pulls out her room key. "I asked you out today and you said no," she slurs, her voice highlighting her disappointment. She slides the key card into the slot; the light flickers green and she turns the handle, opening the door to her room.

"Oh Jemma," Leo whispers, ashamed of his own behaviour. Her hurt stings him and he realizes that he hates seeing her so upset and angry with him. "I'm really sorry." He presses his hand against her door to help hold it open. "I've been a bit of pill haven't I?"

She gives a small smile. "It's okay." Her hand drags across his chest, her palm stopping just over his heart. It's an action he thinks she'd never have done without her inhibitions being lowered. "Thank you for walking me home."

Suddenly she's leaning forward, pressing up on the balls of her feet, her hand using Leo's chest for leverage. Jemma presses her lips lightly to his own. The kiss is chaste, but his eyes close, all thought washed from his brain.

For a moment, just seconds, they are simply Leo and Jemma. There are no secrets, there is nothing to hide, no wall between them. They are… friends?

When she pulls back, she blinks dazedly at him. He's stunned and speechless. Jemma smiles and pats her hand against his chest. "See you tomorrow, Fitz."

**_...To be continued..._**

**_Please leave a review if you can! _**


	5. Chapter 5

**A/N: **Thank you so very much to the lovely people who've favourited and follow this story, most especially to those have left amazing reviews. I am grateful to each and every one of you! The title for this chapter comes from Lady Antebellum's song "Compass" which was what essentially inspired much of this chapter.

* * *

**LET YOUR HEART BE YOUR COMPASS**

When Jemma enters the lab the next morning, she finds the bright lights blinding. She's spent much of the morning trying to wash away the cottony feeling from her mouth and trying to make sense of what exactly happened on her way home from the Boiler Room. At the center table she finds Leo, a hex key in one hand and the innards of the spectrographic analyzer in the other.

"'Morning Fitz," she says with a softened voice as she hangs her bag on the coat tree and removes her lab coat. Her stomach does a little flip and she wonders briefly if it's the hazy, disembodied memories of the previous night or the physical after effects of alcohol consumption.

"G'Morning, Jemma. How're you feeling?" He asks. While he doesn't look up from his work, his voice is lively and more welcoming than she's heard in a while.

She smiles in spite of her mood as she slides her arms into her lab coat. Leo's finally saying more than one word to her (and using her first name) and she wonders what caused the change in temperament.

"Your voice sounds like you're talking through a megaphone," she replies with a groan as she sits heavily on her stool across the table from him. She balances her chin on the balls of her hands.

Leo chuckles and points with the hex key to a glass sitting at her station. "A little cure to help you out," he says. "I hope you don't mind that I raided your chem lock up. It's a mix of sodium bicarbonate and citric acid. The frat boys at M.I.T used to shell out a pretty penny for that lil' beauty."

She'd laugh, but her head hurts too much. Instead she replies with, "Thank you. Really." Jemma reaches for the glass and greedily gulps it down. It tastes fizzy and disgusting, but already she can feel the cloud lifting from her brain.

"Listen Fitz… about last night," she begins. Olivia had told her that she'd called for Leo's help and that he'd escorted her home. What she isn't sure about is if the hazy memory of kissing him was an embarrassing reality or a dream. She _had_ been dreaming a lot about him lately…

Leo shakes his head, silencing her on the subject. "I took your advice," he says as he returns the mechanical innards to the spectrometer and begins to screw the compartment shut. "I re-calibrated the influxer. You were right. It was off."

Jemma lifts her head from her hands, her failed attempt at discussing the previous night already forgotten. "I was right?"

He smiles and nods. He reaches for a large cardboard box that sits behind him.

"So it should work now?"

Leo begins to pull out various shaped earth matter from the box and lines them up on the table between them. "It should." He hands her the spectrograph. "Would you like to do the honours?" She nods greedily and moves to his side, taking the machine from him.

Leo stands back from the table, tablet in hand and keys in a few commands. Suddenly, Jemma feels a light vibration as the screen lights up before her. The words, "RESULT: PENDING" flash in amber.

"It's working!"

"Excellent!" Leo replies, equally excited. "Now run it across the pieces on the table, see if it picks up the alien matter."

Jemma turns to him, surprised. "Alien matter?" He gives her a look and waves his hand, urging her forward. "Alright, alright," she says with a grin, stepping toward the samples. She hovers the spectrograph over each sample. With each item, it reads "RESULT: NEGATIVE"

"So far so good," Leo confirms. "Keep going." Jemma continues and the result is the same for each until she comes to a geode-looking sample. Suddenly, the light flares red and her screen reads "RESULT: POSITIVE".

She laughs. "You did it, Fitz! It works!"

He laughs alongside her, the excitement in the room palatable. "No, _we_ did it. Together."

While there is an underlying awkwardness between them (and a kiss that hasn't been discussed), Jemma believes that it's that very moment that solidifies their working partnership and opens the door for their renewed friendship.

For Leo, that partnership had begun when they were just thirteen and she'd given him the mathematical calculations to build an adamantium shield. He's just now realizing the potential that exists when they work together.

Leo hands Jemma the alien sample. "For you," he says with a nervous smile. "Snatched it from Professor Vaughan's lab. You might as well take it-"

"And I can define its chemical properties," she finishes, taking the rock and putting it into a containment box. "We can use it for your D.W.A.R.F development." Jemma slips on her goggles and clicks her microscope's lens into position, readying her station.

...

When the school year ends, both Leo and Jemma are kicked out of their respective dorm rooms for the requisite student turnover. While the Academy students head home for the summer, the two scientists- now official employees of SciOps are permanent fixtures at S.H.I.E.L.D and without a residence. After a nervously initiated suggestion by Jemma, a deal is brokered between the two scientists where they agree to share a 2-bedroom apartment near Boston Commons, a short walking distance from their lab space.

The apartment is perfect; there's a spacious common room with a well sized kitchen and each of the bedrooms is almost equal in size. Leo teases that Jemma's is slightly bigger and insists that he's begrudgingly relinquishing it in favour of the better view of the Commons. The truth is that he'd do anything to see her smile.

When they sign the lease, Leo takes Jemma out to dinner to make up for the one he'd declined so many months ago. It's not a date, they both insist when asked, but there is an undeniable, underlying current. There is a certain truth that remains unspoken between them: While they are now friends, neither is willing to admit out loud a desire for more. They each fear destroying the very partnership (and friendship) they've managed to finally bring together.

They still argue on an almost constant basis, but their arguments are functional, routine even. It's a way for them to hash out the complex problems that they encounter in the lab. It pushes each to improve their respective science. Sometimes they argue over animal particulates that are left unattended near Leo's workspace, other times it's about the impossibility of using monkeys in legitimate technological innovations. The difference now is that their arguments are functional. They may get angry but that anger never leaves the walls of the lab and is never taken personally. In fact they often find themselves teasing the other about their personal quirks. They have finally become truly best friends.

Leo and Jemma are known as the team that everyone envies. Their creations are years ahead of anything any of the other SciOps scientists are creating, and they're often on the receiving end of many side projects from Operations. Professors at the Academy now come to them for technical advice and scientific expertise.

Sometime in their second year with SciOps they catch wind of the portmanteau that's being used behind their backs. Aloud, they groan and complain about its use; they are two different people, with two very different backgrounds and accomplishments. Secretly, however, they don't mind the singular reference of "FitzSimmons," it makes them feel as though they are a part of a team.

…

When Jason Riets, a biology professor at Boston College meets Jemma at a conference, he's quick to ask her to dinner. Jemma, however, is surprised by the overture. She stutters and stumbles over her words and finds a way to avoid giving a firm answer. He promises to call her and ask again and when he does, she's hesitant. A part of her wants to say no, but she has no real reason not to accept. So she asks Leo what she should do and he springs up from his stool in the lab and tells her that she should go. "Why not?" He says, quickly. "It's not like you're dating anyone."

Jemma gets the distinct feeling that he's unhappy about it all, but he's closing the door behind him before she can inquire further.

After Olivia tells her that she has nothing to lose as it's not like she's dating Leo, she agrees to dinner with Jason. He's funny, intelligent and pushes her to try new things. It's because of Jason that she finally learns how to ski, sees a musical for the first time and discovers that she has a talent for painting. Jemma enjoys his company and thinks that for once there might be life outside of her studies and science.

There's only one problem with Jason Reits: It's that he's not Leo Fitz.

When she tells Leo about how Jason secured reservations at La Haute, a pricey French restaurant on Newbury Street, she can't help but notice the strain on his face. His words are happy and supportive, but there's a stress crease forming at his temple that Jemma knows all too well.

"Are you mad at me?" She asks over a dinner of homemade lasagna. She reaches for the last of the garlic toast, tears it in half and passes a piece to Leo. Wordlessly, he takes it, dipping it into the sauce on Jemma's plate.

"No, of course not," he replies, dismissively. "You should be happy. Jason seems like a great guy."

"So you wouldn't mind if he-" Jemma blushes a bit at the thought of what she's about to ask. "- if he were to come over. I mean- sleep over some time?"

Leo feels his heart sink into his stomach. He hopes that the feeling isn't translating on to his face; he steels himself. "No. Of course not. You pay rent here as much as I do."

While the issue is settled, she wonders briefly why it doesn't _feel_ settled.

…

With Jemma in a seemingly stable relationship, Leo tries to force himself to date. A week after their lasagna dinner, he decides to ask out the pretty girl that works the references section in the Academy's library. Beth has light hair and eyes and he quells the suspicious feeling that he's trying to find the one girl that looks the least like Jemma.

Beth is nice enough. They talk about computers, she laughs at his Doctor Who obsession and she tells him how a love for Kate Chopin's "Awakening" led her to studying American literature in college. He thinks she's lovely and charming and after the third date he takes her to his bed. Even with Beth lying next to him, curled against his chest, he can't shake the feeling that something is missing and that asking her out in the first place had been a terrible mistake.

When Jemma catches him saying goodbye to Beth at the threshold of their apartment the next morning, Leo makes an immediate decision to break it off with her. He feels guilty over it and avoids the library for several weeks after the fact.

Months pass and he watches with a hardened heart (mixed in with much regret) as Jason's nights over become increasingly common. Leo's worst fears become a reality when his phone rings as he's putting Jemma's 21st birthday cake into the fridge.

"Fitz, I need a huge favour from you." It's Jason and Leo suppresses the urge to respond with a flat _no_. Instead, he measures his voice and says: "Sure. What's goin' on?"

"I know you and Jemma usually do something together on her birthday, but I was wondering…" He pauses as if collecting his thoughts. "I was wondering if she and I could have the apartment tonight instead. I've got- well, Fitz… I'll be straight with you. I was hoping to ask her to marry me tonight and wanted to surprise her. You know, flower petals and all that."

Leo is speechless. He's not sure if he wants to vomit or hang up the phone. Maybe both. He's silent for so long that Jason eventually asks, "Are you still there?"

"Yah, yah. I'm still here. Sure. Whatever," he says as dismissively as he can muster. "I'll leave a key under the mat. Jemma said she'd be home around 7."

Leo does what he promises and stays as far from the apartment as he can. He nurses a few pints at the local pub and attempts to flirt with one of the waitresses. He figures he's rather poor at flirting after he mentions Jemma's name a few too many times.

When he returns home well after midnight, he finds a tearstained Jemma curled up in the corner of their sofa, clutching a pillow to her chest.

"What happened?" He asks, stunned.

Her face breaks into renewed tears as she lifts her chin from the pillow. "Jason and I broke up…"

**_…To be continued..._**

**Please leave a review if you can!**


	6. Chapter 6

**A/N:** Again, thank you for so many kind messages and follows/faves. I feel very blessed!

* * *

**WHAT LIES BENEATH**

It's Jemma's 21st birthday and she's excited to be spending it exactly the same way she's spent her last two birthdays: playing scrabble, watching old episodes of Upstairs, Downstairs and eating her favourite cake with Leo at her side.

There's also a nervousness that has been sending her stomach into her throat all day.

She's finally made the decision to give all of her letters to him and has pulled the dusty box from its hiding place under her bed. Before she can go any further in her relationship with Jason, she wants Leo to know what he means to her.

Jemma suspects she's being reckless but she knows that she needs to take this chance.

She gets her hair coloured and cut especially for the occasion and buys her first 6-pack of American beer at the local convenience store. Leo will probably kill her for her choice, she knows he prefers MacEwans, but it's _her_ birthday and she's been dying to try something American.

She has laughter in her voice when she opens the door and calls, "Please don't hate me Fitz, but I bought something called Mill-" It's not Leo that greets her in their common area with streamers and cake, but a grim faced Jason holding her shoebox of letters.

"What is this?" He asks, motioning at the box.

Jemma drops her bags on the floor and moves toward Jason, her hands out in supplication. "I can explain."

His eyes flash with anger and he lays the shoebox on the table next to the sofa and takes a letter from the top of the pile. He pulls it from its unsealed envelope.

"Dear L.F," he reads, his voice cracking in imitation. He's doing his Jemma-voice, a voice he used to tease her with. Before she would laugh, now she just cringes at the mockery. "Is it strange that I miss you?" He pulls a second letter from the stack. "I'm embarrassed to admit this, but sometimes I wonder what you must think of me." And a third, "There are times that I feel so lonely, but then I'll get something in the post from you and I don't feel so alone anymore." He motions to the letters, tossing them on the table, haphazardly. His face is one of disgust. "What is all this? You've been writing letters to Fitz?"

"I told you how Fitz and I met, Jason," she says forcing strength into her voice.

"You didn't tell me it was like this!"

"It's just nonsense," she explains, tears stinging her eyes. "The ramblings of a young girl."

"They don't sound like ramblings to me," he retorts, furious. "It looks and quite frankly, _sounds_ like you have feelings for him. There's over thirty here!"

Jemma is stunned into silence, her mouth opens and closes to protest but she's speechless, her tears falling freely.

"Why do you have all of these?" He shakes his head. "No. The better question is if they're just ramblings why do you _still_ have them?"

Jemma knows that she has a perfectly logical explanation for the collection; she was keeping them to one day give to Leo. The problem, she realizes, is that it's really _why_ she wants him to have them and that she can't justify the clear emotion she knows must underlie many of the letters.

At last she whispers, "I don't know what to say."

"Do you love him?"

"Of course! You know that. He's my best friend!"

"Are you _in_ _love_ with him?" Jason corrects.

Her chin quivers at the question and she bats her hand against fresh tears. Her brain tells her to refute the claim; her heart, however, won't let her lie. Instead, she chooses silence.

"That's what I thought." Jason grabs his coat from the back of the sofa and heads toward the door. "I'll see myself out."

"Please, Jason! Just listen," Jemma begs, reaching for him. She's not sure what she's going to say, but she doesn't want him leaving furious with her. He waves her touch off.

"Jemma, do you know how I found those letters?" He asks, the door open to his back. "I wanted to surprise you with this." He pulls from his pocket a ring and holds it out for her to see. "Then I found that box, just sitting on your bed, like you wanted it to be found." He shrugs his shoulders. "Happy Birthday, Jemma." It's with those words that the door slams behind him, leaving her alone in darkness of the apartment.

...

Hours later, a wordless Leo pulls Jemma to his chest where she cries, her shoulders heaving, tears staining his t-shirt.

At some point in the early hours of the morning Jemma is lulled to sleep by the meditative motion of Leo's fingers running through her hair. She's curled into his lap and there's a part of Leo that wants to remember this moment. He's not sure what comes over him, but as his hands tangle through her soft, dark hair he whispers, "I just want you to be happy."

When his eyes grow heavy and his fingers languid, he feels Jemma's own fingers tighten around his free hand. His muddled, exhausted brain registers it in the moments before he succumbs to sleep himself.

...

It's the sound of the shower echoing in the apartment that wakes him up. He stands slowly, straightening his stiffened back. It's as he moves to pick a fallen pillow from the floor that he notices a shoebox sitting on a nearby table. He moves closer to it and it's then that he sees the doodles that decorate the area of the box.

His heart jumps into his throat and beats a little quicker when he notices, among a collection of poorly drawn daisies, a faded red coloured heart with the letters L.F. scrawled within it. His fingers trace the image and his initials. He recognizes Jemma's cursive, knows instinctively that the box is hers. Leo can't help but wonder what lies within and if it was the catalyst to Jemma and Jason's breakup. Not wanting to upset her anew, he carries it to her room and places it on her bookshelf.

When Jemma is out of the shower, she finds a freshly made breakfast of blueberry pancakes and bacon. Leo insists they skip off from work in favour of spending the day watching old episodes of Upstairs, Downstairs and digging in to her birthday cake.

(Jemma is a little nervous breaking the rules, but Leo reminds her that they'd never fire their best scientists)

Neither mentions Jason's name and when Jemma tucks herself a little closer to Leo somewhere around episode 4, he doesn't protest.

Jemma thinks that it's just about the best day-after-birthday she's ever had.

…

There are few subjects that Leo has been unable to master. With an IQ of 172, even some of the most impossible topics come fairly easy. The one subject that continues to baffle him, no matter how hard he tries to figure it out, is romance.

While he's had girlfriends, none lasted very long. He supposes that his constant focus on his studies as a teen left little opportunity to really put time into developing a proper relationship. His sister once laughed at him after he'd told her, for what seemed like the hundredth time, that he didn't have a girlfriend.

"Oh Leo," she'd said, teasingly. "You're an absolute idiot. You've had a girlfriend for years."

Helen constantly teased him about Jemma but he'd just assumed his lab partner saw him as only a friend. Certainly she would never want to date him; she was top of their class at the Academy and came from one of the wealthiest British families. He, on the other hand had failed First Year math and was the son of a single mother who barely made minimum wage as a seamstress.

Over a year had passed since Jemma had broken up with Jason and something had changed between them. Leo can't quite identify exactly what, but there is a sudden closeness that gives him hope that she may return his feelings. Her smiles have been brighter, her eyes wider and he can't help but notice that she's seeking his touch more frequently. Often while watching television, she regularly tucks her arm into his own and rests her head upon his shoulder. Once while grocery shopping, she'd threaded her fingers into his. She's constantly by his side helping him improve and bring to life his many creations; her encouragements push him to go beyond his technological limitations. Leo wonders if maybe she'd always been like this and he's just now noticing.

When it comes to Jemma Simmons, Leo wants to do things properly and it's because of that desire that he begins to overthink every little aspect.

He sneaks a few books from the library (purposefully avoiding Beth's regular shift) and reads up on what the experts say on the issue. Their conclusions leave him even more confused than ever. Some say to just ask the girl out, put it all on the line; others say to ignore her until she makes the first move. None of their suggestions really strike him as being appropriate for Jemma. So instead, in true Leo Fitz fashion, he decidedly avoids the situation all together.

Avoidance comes fairly easily as they're in the middle of perfecting the Holocom and most of their conversations begin to revolve around it's performance and enhancement. While he's testing the accuracy of the interactivity and the integration of the DWARFs into the programming, he's unaware of the extra glances that Jemma steals.

Following their presentation in the S.H.I.E.L.D auditorium on the effectiveness of the Holocom's use in forensic investigation, they are bombarded at the foot of the stage with congratulations. Leo can't think of another instance when he's shaken so many hands.

He's in the middle of explaining to Professor Vaughan how the DWARFs work with the Holocom's platform when he notices out of the corner of his eye, Jemma talking with Deputy Director Maria Hill. He's momentarily stunned to realize that the high ranking S.H.I.E.L.D agent is even in attendance and wonders what she could possibly be discussing with Jemma.

As Professor Vaughan asks him whether the Holocom registers nanoparticles from site surfaces, he sees Jemma grin wildly and glance toward him, nodding her head. He smiles in return, but he knows the smile doesn't reach his eyes; he can't help the sudden, sharp sense of dread that fills his heart.

"Agent Fitz? Are you listening?" Vaughan tugs at Leo's sleeve, pulling his former student's attention back to him. Leo is instantly reminded as to why he finds talking to his old professor tedious.

…

When the last of the audience members vacate the auditorium, Jemma breathes a sigh of relief. She thinks that this presentation was the most stressful and also most important of her life. Well, hers and Leo's.

She smiles to herself at the thought. Her and Leo. It's a partnership that, looking back on, took time to really come into its own. But now she can't deny it; they are a team.

"The best damn team at S.H.I.E.L.D, I reckon," Leo's voice echoes her thoughts and she laughs. Secretly, she loves that they can read each other so well. Together they've made such progress. Their combined innovations are the sorts of things she thought were impossible when she was younger. But together they've made the impossible, possible.

Jemma presses her hands against her lab coat, her smile wide and excited. Her heart thumps against her chest nervously as she turns to face him. She finds it vaguely ironic that they're standing in front of a stage for this moment. She has news to share with her partner; major, life-altering news.

"I have something to tell you," her words are echoed at the same time by Leo. She laughs. It's not the first time they've spoken over each other. "You first."

Leo nods and it's then that she notices he's grown suddenly serious.

Jemma Simmons has studied chemistry and biology for as long as she can remember. Her parents gave her her first microscope and chemistry set when she was 7 years old. From that moment forward she was always throwing together combinations of elements and seeing how they would react. What she continues to love about her chosen scientific fields is that the conclusions are largely predictable; when two or more molecules interact, a series of reactions lead to a standard, mostly _predictable_ result.

(She'll later suspect that it's her inability to predict the unpredictable that causes her to react in the way that she does.)

"Jemma- uh- I- I…" Leo stutters, wringing his hands at his stomach. She recognizes his nervous tick and reaches for his hands, settling them with her own.

"Leo, is everything okay?"

He looks at her, suddenly wild eyed. It's as though he's surprised by something she's said.

She loses her chance to question him further when he reaches for her; his hands on her face and his lips pressing against her own. His body says what his words can't and she relents beneath his mouth, folding into his kiss. Her fingers tug at his sweater, pulling him closer; his hands move to tighten at her waist. She's longed for this, has wanted it for as long as she can even remember. What starts as a hesitant kiss becomes braver as her hands lace into his hair.

It's the sound of a distant door slamming that wakes her from her daze and causes her to drag herself from his embrace.

"No!" She whispers panicked and red faced, her chest heaving with each breath. "We can't-" Her words are weak and broken.

It's the truth; they can't.

Leo's face falls with hurt and confusion, they're both speechless and Jemma knows that she owes him an explanation. But her eyes sting with tears and rather than let him see her fragile and crushed, she runs from the auditorium.

She hates what she's done, hates what it means for _them_; she wishes that she could find the words to make it better.

_**...To be continued...**_

_**Please leave a review if you can!**_


	7. Chapter 7

**A/N:** I am so very sorry that this chapter is so long overdue. At first I was just having issues with its flow and couldn't quite reconcile it. Then work got busy and I was just exhausted and so this poor chapter got put on the back burner. But I'm back and let me tell you, this chapter is practically a shadow of its former self. It got a massive overhaul about 2 weeks ago and a huge thank you goes out to Anytha84 who offered me some constructive feedback when I was stuck. If you haven't read her fics, go and do so! They're great.

Anyways, on with the long overdue chapter!

* * *

**SAY SOMETHING**

Once Jemma returns to their apartment she's at her computer, pulling up the S.H.I.E.L.D directory. She finds the number she's looking for but her hands shake while she dials and she has to hang up and try a second time.

The phone rings twice before a voice responds with "Deputy Director Maria Hill's office."

Jemma identifies herself and in no time is transferred through.

"Dr. Simmons, what can I help you with?" Deputy Director Hill's voice is icy, yet calm.

Jemma is momentarily panicked. "Agent Hill, I- er, that is-"

"Spit it out, Dr. Simmons."

"Right." She takes a deep breath and continues. "I've reconsidered your offer, Deputy Direct- I mean, Agent Hill," she says, stumbling over her words for a second time. "I'm sorry but I can't accept the job afterall."

"Dr. Simmons, I think you misunderstood me this afternoon," she replies curtly. "It wasn't an offer; you _are_ being transferred. All mission teams require a medical official on board. It is an order."

"What?"

"The agent in charge of the mission is specifically requesting your transfer into the position on his team. He is aware of your partnership with Agent Fitz and has requested that an offer be extended to him as well. But, unlike yourself, he has a choice in the matter."

Jemma can feel her face blanche. "Oh."

"Is that all Dr. Simmons?"

"One last question," she says softly, afraid of the answer to what she's about to ask. "Protocol 8-6... that applies to my new position?"

Agent Hill sighs; it's clear that she's grown impatient. "Yes. It applies to all field agents and you will fall into that category."

"Right."

"Dr. Simmons is there something you'd like to tell me?"

Jemma swallows hard. "No!" She squeaks, her response unconvincing. "Nothing at all."

"Good," she retorts, suspicion in her voice. "Because if there is something going on between you and Agent Fitz and it's discovered while you're on assignment, both of your contracts with S.H.I.E.L.D. will be terminated. The rules are very explicit with regards to Protocol 8-6. Do you understand?"

"Yes, sir. Er, I mean, yes Agent Hill."

"Good. Your assessments schedule should be forwarded to you shortly." The phone disconnects abruptly, leaving Jemma stunned.

She sits on her bed, her mind racing. Her worst fears have been confirmed; she feels devastated. Fresh tears sting at her eyes. The image of Leo reaching for her haunts her as much as it sends her heart aflutter. She'd always thought they were just friends, that her feelings for him weren't reciprocated.

The front door to their apartment opens and she hears Leo's familiar tread as he makes his way down the hall. She calls out to him, but it's the slamming of his bedroom door that replies instead. She knows she has to explain her reaction, needs to make things right. They have to figure out the next step _together_.

...

Leo stares at the ceiling of his bedroom, his every thought occupied by the terrible mistake he's made.

He feels like a fool for having taken the chance; he's not entirely certain what had come over him. He'd initially hoped to ask her to dinner to celebrate their achievement. It would've been a simple request considering their friendship, but he'd wanted to make it clear: he'd hoped for the celebratory dinner to be a date.

He'd chosen the moment after their presentation to tell her; felt confident that he would succeed. The variables that his books had suggested to look for seemed to be in his favour.

Then he'd kissed her.

Upon reflection, Leo suspects it was her saying his name. He's wanted to hear his name on her lips for so long that when it finally happened, it was as though his body became possessed.

Somehow he'd misread it all.

The one thought that nicks at the back of his mind, the thought that stops him from fully believing he'd been wrong, is the realization that she'd kissed him back.

Jemma Simmons had pulled at his sweater, tucked herself against him and had batted her tongue against his own. It was a stirring reminder that shed the tiniest of light on the dark memory of her running from him in the auditorium.

His thoughts are interrupted by a knock at his bedroom door and he knows it can be only one person. His heart thumps against his chest and he remains silent, hoping that she'll think he's not home. It's a ridiculous thought as she must've heard him enter the apartment; he's not certain he's ready to confront the host of emotions that have bubbled to the surface.

"Fitz, please. I know you're in there. Can I come in?"

He sighs. He knows that he needs to deal with the fall out, but before he can answer, the door opens and Jemma enters his room.

"Can we talk?" She asks hesitantly, a shoebox clutched against her chest. He recognizes the faded ink against the brown cardboard, it's the same one he'd returned to her room well over a year ago. It's that same box that had given him the first indication that maybe they could be more than just friends.

Wordlessly he moves over on his bed, offering her the space next to him. She places the shoebox on his night table and lies down beside him, her shoulder just brushing his own.

"I'm so sorry," she says at last.

"There's nothing to apologize for. I'm the one who made the mistake. I ruined everything."

She shakes her head. "No, Fitz. You didn't. You didn't ruin a thing." Her hand wraps around his own, startling him. "Deputy Director Hill is transferring me."

He turns his head to face her, bile rising in his throat. "What?"

She nods, unable to face him. "A promotion. I'd be working on an elite team led by a Level 8 agent finding people who need help."

"You're leaving me?" His voice is barely a whisper. He's sick knowing what kissing her has cost him. "What have I done?"

"Oh God, Fitz! No!" Her hand tightens over his and she turns toward him. "She's offered you a job on the team as well. It's everything we've ever wanted," she says, encouragingly. "It's the perfect opportunity to see the world."

"I like our lab," he murmurs, turning to stare back at the ceiling.

"We'd be fools to pass it up, Fitz."

"I like our lab," he repeats.

There's a long pause as Jemma gathers her courage. At last she says, "I can't refuse. It's an order from Agent Hill."

Leo bolts upright and looks down at her. "What do you mean?"

Jemma closes her eyes, measuring herself. She sits up next to him. "Some Level 8 agent has requested us for his team. But because a medical doctor is mandatory for all missions, I've been ordered. I _have_ to go."

"You can't!" He says, panic in his voice. "We're a team."

"Fitz." She shakes her head. "You know what I'm meant to do."

"So you're going to leave me then?"

"I want you to come with me. Take the job they're offering you." Her heart beats into her throat. "There's one thing though: if you accept the job, if you join me on the team..." Her face reddens and she looks down at her hands, unable to meet his eyes. "Protocol 8-6," she adds, simply. "It's why I left earlier."

"You left because of protocol 8-6?"

She nods, her teeth bite at the corner of her lip. "I _wanted_ you to kiss me, Fitz. I've wanted it for so long. But if we go, if I go- we can't..."

Leo sucks in a deep breath, the events of the day suddenly clearer. "Oh."

She boldly reaches for his face and smoothes the stress wrinkles at his temples. He welcomes the gesture; it calms him. With his face in her hands she says, "Come with me, Fitz. I can't do this job without you."

In the years before he'd officially met Jemma at the Academy, he'd loved the solitude of his lab, would relish in the peace that it brought. It offered him protection; the crisp white concrete walls were the physical embodiment of the emotional ones he'd put up long ago. No one bothered him when he was working in the lab. His sketches would litter his desk until it was the bits and pieces of his newest creation. When those bits and pieces became an actual _thing_ he would take it to some open space where he knew no one would bother him and test it. More times than not, it would work. And every time that his newest creation would fly, shoot, detect, protect or analyse he'd want to celebrate with someone.

But not just anyone. He wanted to celebrate with Jemma Simmons. The genius girl from Sheffield that had changed his life.

When they'd been assigned to each other those few years ago, he was afraid. Afraid that he could never match her, that she'd laugh at the creations that existed only in his mind, that she'd think his videos to be the rantings of a madman. But if she had, she hid it well. Her infectious smile supported his every idea and she encouraged him to bring alive his dreams. While the emotional walls he'd put up still existed, somehow along the way he'd let her inside them.

Now the only thing he fears is a life without her by his side.

"I can't," he says mostly to himself.

She nods, as though understanding his ramblings. "Think about it Fitz. I can't either. I can't do this without you." Jemma moves from the bed and heads into the hallway. "They start assessments tomorrow."

"You forgot-" He calls after her, motioning toward the box sitting on his night table.

"No." She says with a small smile. "It's time you read them. It's time you knew."

…

Leo is stunned by what he reads in the letters she's left him; letters that are directed to _him_.

Jemma had blown out her 13th birthday candles wishing for a friend who wouldn't judge her for her scientific abilities. He discovers that she, like him, had been ostracized by her classmates and had longed to be understood by those around her. She'd wanted nothing more than someone with whom she could just be herself. Her lunch breaks at school had been spent in the washroom, hiding from her classmates. They, she writes, would beg her for homework answers or tease her about her appearances in the local papers.

He learns that that wish made on her 13th birthday had come true a mere month after her mum had found her unconscious in her bedroom, a half spent bottle of paracetamol next to her on her bed.

Leo is floored to read that on the day they'd met, she'd promised her psychiatrist that she'd try to make new friends. The Science Fair, after all was to be filled with similarly minded kids. When Jemma had seen his 13 year old self, all pomp and surety, she knew they'd be fast friends. But then he'd walked off and disappeared into the crowd before giving his name.

She'd spent the next few days scouring the internet for news on a Scottish boy scientist that was bad at physics. Jemma's searches had come up empty and her depression and loneliness manifested anew. Her parents fretted, watching her every move until a package postmarked Glasgow arrived in the post.

While they'd never officially exchanged letters, his videos had made her feel like she'd had a friend, someone who could understand what it was like to be different. Someone, she writes, who wanted to push the boundaries of science like she did.

Hours pass quickly as Leo devours letter after letter. He reads of how she's sent to Cambridge at 15 and boards with flatmates who tease her, calling her Hermoine. It's a moniker she easily embraces now, he knows, but at the time it succeeded only in pushing her toward her old self. But with each of his videos she grew stronger, happier, more resilient. She had longed to see him again, thought that with him at her side, she'd be unstoppable; that her past could finally be behind her.

She writes of her excitement at being accepted into S.H.I.E.L.D Academy, thinks that at last she'll meet the elusive L.F. She knows, even before he probably did, that S.H.I.E.L.D would be foolish to turn him away as a student. His creations impress her and in a few envelopes he finds suggestions of how to further improve his work. Seventeen year old Jemma sends him into a fit of laughter, she's filled with pride; not just in herself, but in Leo.

All along it had felt like he was living on an island, isolated and different from those around him. In his own mind he's a disappointment to his mother, an outcast to his classmates and a fraud to Jemma.

He'd hidden so much from her over the years out of fear, pretending that he's something else, all because he'd thought she was perfect. Yet, all along, he'd been wrong.

She's just as flawed as he is.

Together, he thinks, they might just be perfect.

...

After tossing and turning for several hours, Jemma finally succumbs to sleep. She dreams of Leo telling her he won't go with her, is tortured by the possible reality that he'll leave her. Without her friend at her side, her dream self fails to complete the simplest tasks and her eyes flick to her lock up where she knows deadly chemicals sit. She's struggling with the combination door when she's awoken with a start to the light of her room being thrown on. She blinks away the blindness and finds Leo in her doorway.

"My mother is a seamstress," he says, his voice panicked, clutching the stack of letters.

"What?"

"My mam is a seamstress," he repeats quicker, pacing her room. "She could barely afford our rent when I was growing up. I had to sell most of my creations just to help her out. My da', y'see, he died in an explosion at A.I.M Glasgow when I was barely 8 years old. They never found his body. I have nightmares that he's still alive creating some super villain that kills everyone I love." He swallows hard. "Including you."

Jemma is now sitting upright, her feet on the floor of her bedroom. She stares at Leo, speechless and stunned by his sudden confessions.

"Back in Scotland, I had the lowest maths scores in the whole damn school. That's why you couldn't find me; they were going to put me in a remedial program. They were ready to kick me out of the school but then my mam brought me to London, told me I'd get to see adamantium." He pauses. "She wanted me to meet you. Had read about you in the local papers."

"Leo-"

"Let me finish. That day that we met and you gave me those calculations, gave me that sample of adamantium. It changed my life. _You_ changed _my_ life." He places the stack on the bed next to her. "For every video I sent you I made goal for myself. Pass maths, understand physics, pass my GCSEs, go to M.I.T., get accepted into the Academy... See _you _again."

Jemma rises to her feet. "Oh Leo… I- I didn't know."

He gives a sheepish smile. "Why would you? What did I tell you about myself? That I liked working with my hands? That I hated doing laundry? That everyone called me Fitz?" He chuckles.

"What?"

He shakes his head. "The point is, Jemma Simmons, I'd follow you to the ends of the earth. In your letters you said that I made you feel not so alone; the truth is that it's _you_ that saved _me_ from loneliness. You've saved me in more ways than I can even count. If you've got to take that job, I will too."

"But what about Protocol 8-6?"

"We'll figure it out. We always do; their contracts are only for a year at a time anyway. Besides," he says with a laugh. "Maybe we'll fail our assessments."

"Fitz," Jemma says, narrowing her eyes. "We've never failed at anything before."

Leo bobbles his head. "Well, there's always a first." His face breaks out in a grin. "Think about it. There's a remote possibility that we'll be so terrible they won't want us." He shrugs, his face reddening. "I did the math earlier. It is entirely possible. Remote, yes. But possible."

"And if we don't fail, we're agreed: one year, then?" She asks.

He nods. "One year."

She throws her arms around his neck, her smile wide against his shoulder. He wraps his arms around her waist and hugs her back. He thinks he could stay like this forever. Jemma surprises him when she pushes up on the balls of her bare feet and leans into him. Her lips, when they press against his, are soft and he can already feel his body reacting. Leo deepens the kiss and her back arches into him and he tightens his hold on her. Jemma's fingers slink into his hair and he wonders if there is any better feeling than her in his arms.

This time, when she pulls her mouth away, her arms stay wrapped around his torso. She rests her head against his chest and listens to his heart beat. It's quick and steady and she knows that no matter what, with Leo she'll always be safe and at home.

"I just want you to be happy," she whispers at last.

And he is. More than she could ever know.

**._..To be continued..._**

**Please leave a review if you can!**


	8. Chapter 8

**A/N: This chapter contains a few (minor) spoilers from "Avengers", but I imagine that if you're watching AOS you've probably seen Avengers or at least are familiar with what happens in it. **

**This chapter got a bit away from me and I obsessed over the details probably way too much, which is why it took me a bit longer to write. I must say though, I love, love, LOVE reading your wonderful feedback! Please keep leaving it, it's so nice to read and I appreciate it very much! So, thank you!**

* * *

**The Test**

Jemma and Leo had been so quickly whisked from their first year at the Academy and into SciOps that they never experienced the pressure, anxiety and nervousness of examinations at S.H.I.E.L.D.

And, by extension, they'd never been given the opportunity to prepare for their exams together.

While Leo prefers to limit his books and drafting sketches to his desk, Jemma wholly takes over the apartment. Every available surface is covered with opened textbooks and spiral notebooks filled to capacity. Notations litter the floor and a white board with chemical formulas written in coloured marker sits propped against their television. Leo thinks it looks like the Bio-Chem reference section of the library exploded all over their apartment. When he finds Jemma's calculations on gamma radial waves resting in the dish rack, he calls for a temporary moratorium on studying.

"This is getting ridiculous," he cries out with laughter in his voice, tossing her notebook onto the kitchen counter. "We shouldn't be caring this much about passing these exams."

She doesn't look up from the sofa, her head bent over another notebook, pencil furiously scratching across the paper. "Fitz, I can't purposefully fail. It's not in my DNA. If I do fail, it will be organic."

"I swear you love studying more than life itself," he jokes, moving closer to her. "What are you working on anyway?"

"I'm trying to figure out a way to reverse the effects of the radioactive breakdown in beta particles. If I can do that then-"

"Why would you need to do that?" He interrupts, hands at the small of his back.

Jemma stops writing and looks up, eyes narrowing at Leo. "I'm trying to prepare for the field assessments next week."

"By doing calculations?"

"What if they want us to develop an antiserum for a radioactive spider bite? Or to counter the effects of gamma radiation? You'll thank me for my calculations then."

"It's a _field_ assessment, Simmons! One would think they'd want you to react to situations that would occur _in the field_." He picks up a copy of _Stealth Technology_ from a pile of books and flips it open, turning it toward Jemma. His finger taps against the page, pointing to an entry. "You should be studying the susceptibility of infrared surveillance sensors. D'you know whether the spectrograph would survive in extreme temperatures and if-"

"-We'll see if you feel that way when you're clinging to walls and crying about webs coming out of your-"

"-I would love to cling to a wall," he retorts dreamily. "I wouldn't have to use the bloody ladder in the lab to reach those shelves."

"Dr. Simmons?"

"Oh _of course_," she says drolly, ignoring the sudden third voice in the conversation. "Is this about your height again? Dr. Streiten said you were _slightly_ below average. He didn't say you were _short_!"

"Leopold Fitz?"

"When a person says 'below average' what they're saying is 'short'. 173 centimeters is not short! It's _average_ in the U.K.!"

"I'm from S.H.I.E.L.D, we're here-"

"It's not average for a field agent, Fitz! He told you that. I don't know why you insist on going on and on-"

"- I haven't been going on and on! You brought the height thing up! I was just saying that the average-"

"On about the average again! If I had half a mind I'd-"

"FitzSimmons!" The voice roars, echoing off of the walls of the apartment. The two scientists turn, stunned into silence by the sudden appearance of a man in a grey suit standing in their living room flanked by two large men in black.

Jemma's mouth drops. "You're-"

"I'm Agent Coulson with S.H.I.E.L.D." The man gives a half smile and tucks his hand into his pants' pocket, producing an identification badge. "Your door was unlocked so I just let myself in. You really should lock it. You never know who could come in."

"You were the one that convinced me to join SciOps," Leo says, shock evident in his voice, finger half pointing toward the man before him. He turns to Jemma dumbfounded and asks, "The man in the grey suit was Agent Coulson?"

"You're meant to be dead!" She adds, motioning toward the men with her pencil. "The Battle for New York and all that."

Coulson sighs, shaking his head. "Well, it's a long story. One that we don't have time for. These two men are here to help me escort you to your field assessments."

"Sir?" Jemma says, sliding her notebook from her lap to the cushion next to her. "I don't understand. We were scheduled for field assessments next week."

"Consider this a surprise test of your readiness." Coulson looks around the apartment and the mess that litters it. "You have five minutes to gather the items you'll need."

...

_Mag pouch, trifold tablet and Grumpy DWARF._ Leo groans inwardly as he mentally runs through the list of items he'd grabbed in his haste. Upon reflection, he suspects he should've taken Happy or Sleepy, but Coulson was calling for him and he'd panicked.

Jemma hadn't fared any better. She'd managed to grab the first aid kit from the kitchen and a set of beta test strips. When Coulson had ordered them back to the living room, they were both sheepish and woefully unprepared for whatever they might be facing.

"A mag pouch?" Jemma whispers across the backseat of the SUV. "Of all the things, Fitz!"

He narrows his eyes at her. "As if your test strips are any better. What'cha planning on doing? Measure the beta particles in the testing facility? At least I can hide with the mag pouch."

"Hide from what?" She snaps back with a chuckle. "The S.H.I.E.L.D evaluators?"

"Are you two always like this?" Coulson asks from the front passenger seat.

"Like what?" Jemma asks innocently, looking between the senior agent and Leo. He shrugs, likewise stumped. Continuing to look forward, Coulson shakes his head and says nothing.

When the vehicle is ushered through the black security gates of the S.H.I.E.L.D training facility, Jemma feels the lump in her throat grow. She reaches for Leo's hand, seeking reassurance. He offers her an encouraging smile, but her nerves only multiply in size.

The SUV eventually comes to a stop in front of the imposing entryway. Both backdoors open and two different agents dressed in black lean in from either side. "Dr. Simmons," says one, his eyes shielded by black aviators. "You're to come with me."

"Mr. Fitz," the second says. "You're with me."

The two scientists look at each other and Leo gives a slight nod as if to say, _This is it_ before Jemma finally releases his hand.

"Good luck," she mutters, her eyes wide, anxiety evident within them.

"And to you," he replies. "It'll be fine, I'm sure," he adds with an equally nervous smile as he exits the car.

...

Leo's body shifts on the exam table, searching for a more comfortable seated position. He thinks the room smells of cleaning solvents and it burns his nose. He's about to ask if all the rooms at the training facility are the same, when the nurse hands him two large yellow pills. He frowns, confused. "What's this for?"

"It's a deliriant," she replies. "It'll facilitate the reality you'll experience when you enter the chamber. The evaluators want to properly test how you would react in the field."

He takes the glass of water she offers and swallows the pills. "But if you're telling me this now, won't I remember?"

"You won't remember," she says with certainty, a faint smile on her lips. "To you, everything will be real. This conversation that we're having right now? It will be distant memory. Something you maybe dreamed of once. When you enter the chamber, you will experience the simulation as though it is happening to you in that moment. We're looking to test your preparedness; how you would react in a particular situation." She points an ophthalmoscope toward him, blinding his left eye momentarily. "It's a previously initiated classified op. They want to see if you can successfully change its outcome."

He nods as she moves on to his right eye. "Well then," Leo says. "I guess there's nothing to be afraid of. It's not like anyone can die from it if it's just a simulation, right?" The nurse's nose scrunches slightly, but it's enough that Leo notices. "I can't die in it, can I?"

She moves to wrap a blood pressure cuff around his arm. "I'm sure you'll be fine," she says, unconvincingly. "It's been many years since an agent died in the field assessment simulation. Now relax, I need to take a proper blood pressure reading before the pills kick in."

…

Jemma stumbles slightly over her own feet as she's led quickly down a narrow hallway. A large hand clasps at her shoulder, steadying her. She's feeling a little light headed and wonders if it's a side effect.

_A side effect of what?_ She wonders absently.

"We'll need you to figure out a way to contain the Tesseract," commands the man as he tugs at his bulletproof vest. "According to our man inside, it's behaving on its own. Started up about an hour ago. We need you to find a way to turn it off. Or, if you can, stop it." He practically pushes her down the hall, increasing her pace. Her fingernails nick nervously at the zipper of her bag, heavy with a first aid kit and beta strips.

"I'm sorry?!" She says as the man uses his identification badge to unsecure a door marked with a radiation hazard symbol. "Did you say Tesseract?"

"Yes, ma'am." He holds the door open for her, motioning her through.

"But it's alien!" She cries, ignoring his comments. "I'm a biochemist. As in trained in _earthly_ biology and chemistry. I couldn't possibly know how to-" His strong arm pushes her through the entrance, interrupting her protests.

"You'll figure it out, I'm sure." The echo of his words are cut off by the slamming of the door and Jemma finds herself suddenly alone. The room dark, she's barely able to make out the silhouette of her own hands as she holds them up.

"Can someone turn a light on in here?" She calls out, her voice shaky. As though answering her request, the room suddenly illuminates, a bluish hue filling the space. A strong gust of wind pushes her ponytail against the side of her face and she can feel the force of it hit her body.

With the lights on, she's more able to take in the largeness of the room. A series of mobile computer stations encircle a glowing cubed box that sits in the center of the room. Near to her, a printer spits out a series of papers in quick succession. As the stack on the tray becomes too full, the papers fall to the floor and are immediately swept up by the wind which carries them to the back of the room. Jemma moves to take a closer look at the print outs but a sudden crack startles her to the core. Her hand clutches at her chest as she wills her heart calm. The glowing cubed box has come alive; bolts of lightning reach upward, striking the ceiling in a terrifying storm of electricity.

"The Tesseract," she says aloud, amazement in her voice.

"Simmons! It _is_ you!" A voice calls out over the rush of wind and cracking of electrical discharge. She turns and finds Leo kneeling next to a computer station, his trifold tablet in hand. He motions her over. "I need your help with this."

"Fitz! They brought you here too?" As she moves closer to him, her perspective of the room changes. A blast of blue light hits her more directly and she has to shield her eyes as she bends down next to Leo. "What's happening?" She asks, pushing at the loose strands of hair that fly against her face.

"It's some kind of energy surge, the electrons seem to be Chitauri in origin."

"Chitauri? Not Asgardian? Or of Earth?"

He raises his voice over the increasing volume of the electrostatic discharge and motions toward the cube. "It's definitely not of this world."

"Let me test the transference," she yells in return, opening her bag. "This way we can be sure that it is indeed Chitauri."

He nods, pointing. "I've sent Grumpy to get a closer look. So far the energy surge is giving off low levels of gamma radiation."

"Indicative of what?"

His fingers move quickly across his tablet. "I'm not sure. The way that it's behaving... it's all rather spontaneous and unpredictable."

Jemma holds up a test strip into the waves of blue light emanating from the Tesseract. The strip heats up in seconds, burning her finger tips. She curses through the slight pain and taps the strip against her knee to balance the findings. "Definitely Chitauri," she confirms at last, showing the strip to Leo. "Do you think its properties are converging?"

He nods. "I've been monitoring the containment unit and it's becoming more unstable."

"Oh dear!"

"Look! What the bloody hell is it doing now?!" Jemma follows his line of sight toward the cube. It sparks, the container spinning out of control, quicker by the second.

"What's happening?" She calls out, her hair blowing more fiercely across her face.

"I think the Tesseract has become a portal!" He stands, his hand shielding his face from the light and wind.

"The Tesseract?" Jemma rises to join him. "But the Tesseract is a weapon. S.H.I.E.L.D has contained its hyper-radial waves for years. How can it now suddenly become a portal?"

Before Leo can respond, a sudden blast of heat knocks them both backward; computers crash to the floor and papers fly upward as if caught in a vortex.

Leo helps her to her feet. The wind has become more violent than before and she can barely keep herself upright. "What was that?"

"Grumpy!" He yells in reply, eyes on his tablet.

"Grumpy?"

"There was an energy surge from the Tesseract." Leo's fingers slide across the screen. "Here," he says, handing her the tablet. "Monitor the levels. I need to get Grumpy."

Jemma takes the trifold from Leo and watches as the lines spike erratically. He makes a run toward the Tesseract, the winds pushing against him. She can see him struggle to get closer to the drone which lays lifeless on the ground below the current of wind.

The tablet in her hands beeps with urgency, indicating an impending charge. "Hurry," she calls, her fingers tapping on the face of the tablet. "The centripetal acceleration is increasing at an exponential rate. The Tesseract is about to reach its peak levels. It could implode at any minute. Fitz! Be careful!"

He picks up Grumpy from the ground and turns toward Jemma, a large grin on his face. "I've got it! And it's not completely toasted, either!"

Suddenly the Tesseract sparks again, spinning further out of control. Blue light and strikes of lightning hit virtually every corner of the room. Jemma ducks behind one of the fallen computer stations as Leo covers his head, hunching his body over, his back to the Tesseract.

The dust and debris of the room blind her and when she's finally able to see again, the Tesseract has grown in size, a beam of blue light streaks across the room from its center.

"Fitz!" She screams, horror in her voice. For, from within the blue streak of light she sees a man enter the room costumed in black and green, his hand clutching a crescent staff. Jemma instantly recognizes the golden blade: it is the infamous Chitauri scepter from the Battle of New York.

"_LEO!_" Her voice carries thickly across the room and Leo looks up with surprise. His eyes wide, he turns toward the Tesseract just as Jemma cries out a second time. "Watch out!"

In front of him stands the villainous Loki Laufeyson who breathes heavily, his spectre glowing bright in his hand. Before Leo can react, the alien god raises the blade, bringing it down mercilessly into his chest. Jemma screams, her body frozen in place as the horror unfolds before her.

Leo gasps, his body shuddering as the scepter is pulled from him and he collapses, knees first, to the ground.

With the scepter sharp in his hand, Loki continues forward toward Jemma. She's digging into her bag for something, anything to stop him when the dark haired alien suddenly declares as if to no one in particular: "I am Loki of Asgard and I am burdened with glorious purpose," before disappearing right before her eyes.

Jemma has no time to register what has happened as her vision tunnels and she races toward her friend. Breathless, she kneels beside him calling his name as she blindly pulls at the first aid kit within her bag.

"Can you hear me?" Jemma asks as her hand runs the length of his face, desperate for signs of life. He blinks at her in response, his mouth gasping for air. "Stay with me," she cries as she notices that his skin is becoming more muddied by the second. She wills herself calm as she unravels the gauze and presses it hard against his wound. The white cloth turns instantly crimson, an obvious sign of a severed artery. Her hands bloodied, she grabs for more gauze to stem the bleeding.

Leo's lips move, his voice a faint whisper. She leans closer, holding her own breath so that she can hear him more clearly. "Stop… the Tesseract…"

She shakes her head, tears freely streaking her face. "No. I won't leave you."

His hand reaches toward hers, weakly pushing them away from his chest.

"Critical." Leo's words come gargled and she knows that medically he must have mere minutes left. "Save… you." His finger points toward her.

"No!" She insists, shaking her head. "I won't. I won't leave you, Fitz. I won't. I have to try and help you. Just hold on." She screams out, begging for assistance. She knows that beyond the entry doors there must be someone that can help them.

When the sea of light above their heads stirs anew like the waves of an ocean in a storm, Jemma realizes that help will never come. The vortex spreads wide and quick, like a hurricane; it's mouth swallowing everything before it.

The cement floor begins to heave under the pressure and she feels her legs pull from under her. The ground beneath her quakes. She holds fast to Leo, the weight of his body countering the draw of the wind. As the electrical begins to fail, she feels her body being pulled toward a chasm that has opened at the room's center. She clings to his chest in desperation, her hands slick with blood.

…

When Jemma awakens she is hysterical; she breathes in gulps of air, begging for answers. Tears stain her face and she thrashes, grabbing at anything and anyone within a three foot radius. Two orderlies pin her to the bed as a third secures her, ties holding at each wrist.

"Where is he?" She growls. "Where the bloody hell is he?"

"I need you to be calm, Dr. Simmons. Please, you need to relax."

The doctors that surround her answer none of her questions. They flash lights into her eyes and clip monitor pads to her chest.

She screams again, pulling at the restraints. Salty tears slip into her mouth. "Where is he? Tell me, is he okay?"

"Dr. Simmons, you need to calm down." She pulls at the restraints, a part of her knowing that it's futile. Jemma feels a pinch against her upper arm and looks toward the source. A nurse steps back cautiously, a needle raised in his hand. Before Jemma can register what has happened, she feels a warmth from her arm emanate throughout her body. She falls back against the bed, her head slack to the pillow.

"Let her rest," a voice says. "We'll debrief her tomorrow."

_**...To be continued...**_

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